A day will come when you believe
all the bad things said about me.
I will not be around to complain.
I will not be around to explain.
And maybe you will try your best,
To defend ye old family crest.
And maybe you will fight hard
For the little that's left to safeguard.
And maybe you will beat your chest,
And make of yourself a total pest.
Any maybe you will stomp your feet,
And refuse every opportunity to retreat.
But sooner or later it will strike at you,
To the very core that makes you, you.
Soon you will feel doubt, anger, and resentment.
And for that my darling, I am truly repentant.
(c) 2013 Copyright Elena Plotkin
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem